


Masquerade

by LureSanta



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Lure Santa Exchange 2011, M/M, Mask Ball, Masquerade, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LureSanta/pseuds/LureSanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift for lucsmum, created by nancygrew - Posted December 22</p><p>A masquerade</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucsmum](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lucsmum).



> I didn’t want to change the timeline too much so I switched the Halloween party to a masquerade ball. I hope that’s okay!

**CHAPTER ONE – THE BOARD MEETING**

Reid was sitting in on the current board meeting of Oakdale Memorial Hospital wondering if he would get jail time for assault if he were to pour a milkshake over Leland Pierce’s head. He was pretty sure that no one ever actually went to jail for long in Oakdale. Heck, no one even actually stayed dead for long, either. It’s not that Leland was annoying him because he was being idiotic. It’s true that Leland was an idiot but Reid was used to that and wasn’t particularly annoyed by it any longer. A battle of wits with Leland Pierce was a battle against an unarmed opponent. An idiot opponent. What was annoying Reid was the fact that Leland was trying to make decisions about Reid’s neurowing. Sure, Hank and Richie Rich were actually funding the majority of the thing, but it was still Reid’s brainchild, the fruit of his intellectual loins. Huh. Reid would have to rethink that metaphor.

“That’s the most ridiculous suggestion you’ve made yet. Do you speak just to hear your own less-than-dulcet tones?” Reid asked Leland.

“How dare you!” snarled Leland while half-raising from his chair.

Richie Rich laid a calming hand on Leland’s shoulder.

“Okay, the tensions are running pretty high right now,” soothed Richie Rich. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The fact that we’re all so passionate about the neurowing is wonderful. In the long run, all of this discussion is going to result in something truly amazing that we can all be proud of.”

Reid was about to advise Richie Rich that passion and stupidity were not necessarily exclusive when he felt the talons of board member and Wonder Tycoon, Lucinda Walsh, dig into his thigh. He manfully managed to not yelp. He turned to glare at her and noticed that she wasn’t even watching him but was serenely gazing at the discussion occurring between Leland and Richie Rich. He noticed that she was gently tapping her pen on the legal pad she had in front of her. There were words written on the pad. “Dr. Oliver – For the love of all that is holy, SHUT UP.”

Reid was deciding whether to be insulted or impressed with the gall of this woman when he really took notice of the way that Lucinda was watching Richie Rich. It was a look of . . . _love_. Of complete adoration. Geez, that was creepy. The woman was old enough to be his mother. Or his grandmother.

Reid turned his attention back to Richie Rich. He was momentarily distracted at how moist and full his lips looked before he noticed that Richie Rich was using a combination of charm and common sense to get Leland to agree that Richie Rich’s [actually Reid’s] idea regarding the placement of the pathology lab was the correct one. Reid had no idea whether to be relieved that Leland was finally seeing sense or pissed off that Richie Rich always got what he wanted whether he had to use charm, money or blackmail. Well, he guessed that given the fact that the love of Richie Rich’s life had moved out on him, maybe Richie Rich didn’t get everything that he wanted. Ridiculous blind moron.

“I think that this meeting was really productive today,” said Richie Rich while giving everyone other than Reid a soul-warming smile. Not that he wanted Richie Rich to smile at him. Not much, anyway. “And I want to thank you all for letting me attend these meetings. I’m learning so much.”

Reid rolled his eyes. Other than Lucinda Walsh, Bob Hughes and himself, Richie Rich was the only one here who wasn’t a complete moron. Say what you will about the guy [entitled, emotional, _so_ pretty], he was definitely pulling his own weight with this thing. He was definitely more concerned with providing the best patient care than in using this project as a way to throw his wealth and power in everyone’s face. Unlike Leland. Boy, did he despise Leland and Leland’s stupid-looking face.

The meeting drew to a close. _Finally_. Board members started to file out of the room while discussing the current high price of yachts, or whatever the heck wealthy people talked about. Richie Rich was standing with Bobbo near one end of the room. While compiling the papers in front of him, Reid’s eyes traveled over Richie Rich’s body. The guy looked good in that suit. It fit _really_ well.

Reid dawdled and watched Richie Rich out of the corner of his eye. He heard him ask after Bobbo’s mother, the formidable Nancy Hughes. After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Luke, Bobbo went off to tell Kim that he was worried about the Beaver. At least, that’s what Reid assumed the Ward Cleaver-esque Bob did in his downtime when he wasn’t lecturing his staff on the rewards of home and hearth and a balanced diet.

Richie Rich turned to where Reid was still sitting. “You’ve been quiet during these last few meetings.”

Reid was startled as he realized that Richie Rich couldn’t possibly be speaking to him. He had forgotten that Lucinda Walsh was still sitting beside him. He turned towards Lucinda who was tapping a fingernail against her chin and eyeing Reid with speculation.

She turned towards Richie Rich as Reid stood up to get the hell out of the room. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t left immediately.

“Darling, it was important that I let you find and spread your wings during these first meetings. If I threw too much support your way, the others would assume that I thought you were weak and couldn’t defend your own ideas. If I disagreed with you, the others would assume that I didn’t respect you.”

“Thank you, Grandmother,” said Richie Rich. “But I don’t want my presence at the meetings to cause you to hold your tongue. Your input is important. Your ideas are far too vital to the success of the project for you to sit on the sidelines just to protect my feelings from accusations of nepotism.”

“Grandmother?” thought Reid.

Lucinda rose and approached her grandson. She cradled his face. “Have I told you that you are doing an absolutely wonderful job?”

Richie Rich’s ears turned pink in either pleasure or embarrassment. Reid wondered what other things would make him blush.

“By now, it should be obvious to everyone that you’re an asset to the project. I’m going to start speaking up when I disagree with you on anything,” said Lucinda to her grinning grandson in a teasing tone.

Richie Rich bounced a little on his feet. “Bring it on, Grandmother.”

Lucinda laughed lightly.

“So, you’re related to the filthy rich Grimaldis and the filthy rich La Walsh?” taunted Reid. He was pleased to see Richie Rich narrow his eyes and focus his attention entirely on Reid.

“Being born rich isn’t a moral failing,” said Richie Rich, arms akimbo.

“When you go to the can, do you use hundred dollar bills to wipe your butt?” asked Reid.

Richie Rich shot him the dorkiest smile that Reid had ever seen. It was a ridiculously sunny smile and caused an odd feeling in the upper left quadrant of Reid’s chest cavity.

Richie Rich stepped close to Reid and wiped the back of his hands down Reid’s shirt and then flipped his hands over and ran the front of them down Reid’s shirt. “No, I use my hands to wipe my butt.”

Reid should have been annoyed at the juvenile humor, or grossed out by the images. But all he could think of was: _hands, big, warm, lower please_. He swallowed and leaned slightly forward. He noticed that Richie Rich was looking at Reid’s mouth and his breathing had sped up. Suddenly, Richie Rich shook his head in confusion, and possibly guilt, and took a step backwards.

Lucinda cleared her throat. She turned towards Reid. “I’ll see you tonight, doctor.”

“Tonight?” asked a confused Reid.

“The masquerade ball,” Lucinda reminded him dryly.

“Yeah, I’m not real big on parties,” informed Reid.

“Did you even read the invitation? The invitation that you received a month ago?” asked an annoyed Richie Rich.

Reid shrugged. “I’m a busy man.”

“It’s a fundraiser for the hospital. You have to be there,” said Richie Rich.

“I don’t have to----”

“The success of the neurowing is dependent upon more than your ego and skills,” said Richie Rich. “The more funding we have, the better equipment and staffing we’ll be able to provide. The more lives you’ll be able to save.”

“I’m not against fundraisers,” muttered Reid. “But I’d rather not attend them.”

“Tough,” said Richie Rich without any sympathy. “In addition to half of Oakdale, Grandmother has invited wealthy philanthropist friends from around the country. And even though they all have their own projects, they care enough about Grandmother to fly in to support her and Oakdale Memorial. She’s gone through an extraordinary amount of work for this. The least you can do is to show up and answer a few questions from the attendees between stuffing your face.”

Reid wanted to fight with Richie Rich on principle. But he knew that he would just look petty if he refused to attend the stupid thing. “Fine. I’ll throw on a pair of scrubs and come to the party as a doctor.”

“Darling, it’s a masquerade ball, not a kiddie Halloween party with bobbing for apples while _The Monster Mash_ plays on a cheap turntable,” sighed Lucinda. “I take it that your plus-one is going to be your roommate, Katie Snyder?”

“How do you know who my roommate is?” asked Reid suspiciously. “Did you run a background check on me?”

“It’s Oakdale, darling. Gossip fuels the town,” murmured Lucinda.

Richie Rich leaned towards Reid. He whispered, “And since gossip indicates the sum total of your friends are Katie and Bob, it’s pretty obvious that your plus-one will be Katie.”

“Maybe Bob-a-rino is sitting at his desk staring at his phone, hoping that I’ll be inviting him to the big dance,” suggested Reid.

Richie Rich huffed a laugh at Reid’s joke. Reid felt a warm glow of pride before feeling a wave of embarrassment roll over him. He really wished that this uncomfortable little ‘thing’ that he was feeling towards Richie Rich would run it’s course and let him get back to being The Invincible Neurosurgeon Unencumbered by _Feelings._

Lucinda eyed Reid as she brought her cell phone to her ear after dialing a number. “Katie, it’s Lucinda Walsh. I’m well, thank you for asking. I just discovered that the pretty but not-as-bright-as-he-thinks-he-is Dr. Oliver hadn’t planned on coming to my masquerade ball this evening. He’s since decided that he would love to attend and would like for you to be his date. Since he’s on duty for the rest of the day, are you free to pick up costumes for the two of you? Wonderful. Go to Magda at Klinger’s on Rosewood. I’ll let her know to expect you. Bye.”

Lucinda disconnected the call and shot a disapproving eye Reid’s way. He fought the urge to shuffle his feet. Richie Rich sat down on the edge of the conference table and swung his feet while his grandmother called the mysterious Magda to make arrangements for Reid and Katie’s costumes.

After a brief discussion, Lucinda disconnected with Magda. Richie Rich asked her if Magda had made her a new costume for the evening.

Lucinda nearly swooned in delight. “Darling, it’s the most fabulous masquerade costume. My gown is this perfectly luscious gold satin and my feathered mask is just perfection. Did you have time to get a new costume for this year?”

“I’m going old school with a plague doctor costume,” said Richie Rich.

Reid shot the guy a puzzled look.

Richie Rich shrugged. “It’s a traditional Venetian masquerade costume based upon medieval doctors who took care of bubonic plague victims. There’s a wide-brimmed hat that’s supposed to indicate that the wearer is a doctor. The mask has a long beak that’s supposed to hold dried flowers or other aromatics that were supposed to protect the doctors from catching the plague. And there’s a long stick that the doctor is supposed to use with his patients so that he doesn’t actually have to touch them with his hands.”

“I like the idea of not having to touch my patients in situations other than in the operating room when they’re unconscious,” said Reid dreamily.

Richie Rich nodded sagely. “I’m not surprised. Well, I’m heading out. I’ll see you later, Dr. Oliver. Grandmother, I’m looking forward to seeing your costume.”

Richie Rich kissed his grandmother on the cheek and nodded at Reid before he walked at the door.

Reid watched Richie Rich walk out the door. The view was nice. He sensed Lucinda’s stare and hurriedly picked up his files. He nodded goodbye to her and started to exit the room. She lay a hand on his arm. He turned towards her and raised an eyebrow in question.

“You’re a complicated man, aren’t you Dr. Oliver?” asked Lucinda.

“Maybe you’re just used to overly simple men,” said Reid.

Lucinda straightened Reid’s lapel. “Bob told me about your demands regarding the hospital treating uninsured patients. You seem to be a good man under all of that abrasive self-protection. I hope that I’m not forced someday to destroy your life.”

And with that, Lucinda waltzed out of the room. Rich people! They always had to have the last word.

 

 **CHAPTER TWO – KATIE’S PLACE**

When Reid arrived home that evening, his roommate Katie Snyder was sitting on the couch in her ratty yellow robe. Reid hated that robe. It was something out of Dickens. He imagined that the robe wouldn’t be out of place on some dirt-streaked orphan in a workhouse. If he wasn’t so set on principle against the idea of gay men as fashion mentors to straight women, he’d go out and buy her a nice robe. Mauve would look good with her skin tones. Katie’s sister, Margo Hughes, was standing behind the couch with a curling iron and some sparkling barrette thingies hanging from her mouth as she constructed Katie’s hair into the most elaborate hairdo he’d ever seen outside of a wax mannequin of Marie Antoinette.

Katie’s young son, Jacob Snyder, was sitting in one of those contraptions that parents used to imprison their children. His disgruntled expression indicated that he would remember this indignity and seek vengeance.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t have that much hair when I left the house,” said a confused Reid.

Margo mumbled something but due to the barrette thingies, it wasn’t decipherable to Reid.

“We’re weaving hair pieces into my natural hair to give it more oomph,” explained Katie. “I’m not sure whether I want to French kiss you or kick you in the knee.”

“Chief of Police Hughes, I’d like to report a threat of domestic violence,” said Reid as he headed towards the kitchen to prepare himself a sandwich. He heard Margo mumble something. He was pretty sure it was, “I’m off duty.”

“You get invited to the social event of the year, and you don’t even mention it to me,” huffed Katie. “I can’t believe you.”

Reid slapped some ham on top of some turkey. “Since you actually want to go to this party, I don’t have to be grateful that you’ve agreed to be my date, do I?”

Katie smirked. “I wasn’t exactly holding my breath for your gratitude. We’re going to have so much fun tonight.”

Reid sauntered back to the living room. He had a sandwich in his left hand. With his right arm, he rescued Jacob from his imprisonment. He sat down in the armchair and bounced Jacob on his knee. “It’s going to be a waking nightmare.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m a fun date,” stated Katie.

“Since I’m gay, the fact that you’re easy isn’t an incentive for me,” groused Reid.

Margo made an amused sound while Katie made an indignant noise.

“Anyway, Lucinda knows how to throw a party,” said Katie. “There’ll be rivers of champagne flowing and amazing food. “

“That reminds me. Why didn’t you tell me that Lucinda Walsh was Mr. Snyder’s grandmother?” grumbled Reid.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” muttered Katie. “The last time I tried to explain how someone was related to someone else in this town, you whined and moaned about how you didn’t have to the time to learn about all of Freakdale’s little incestuous interconnections.”

“I don’t whine,” whined Reid. “How long do you think we’ll have to stay?”

Margo took the barrette thingies out of her mouth. “You _could_ get into the spirit of the evening. Masquerades are about romance and mystery. It’s about the fact that being incognito makes you brave enough, reckless enough to do anything. Be anyone. It’s about dancing with a dangerous stranger. It’s about throwing caution to the wind and not worrying about consequences or conventions. You’re free to try to satisfy all of your most daring desires.”

Reid and Katie stared at Margo for several moments.

“Never tell me the details of your history with masquerades,” demanded Katie of her sister.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” shrugged Margo.

“I’d kind of like details,” said Reid.

“Reid, you should finish up your sandwich and then go hop in the shower,” said Margo. “Your costume is laid out on your bed.”

As Reid had no way of knowing whether Margo was armed, he finished his sandwich, put a resigned Jacob back into his mini-Alcatraz and went to take a shower.

At least Lucinda’s good buddy Magda hadn’t arranged for Reid’s costume to be something lame like a Harlequin costume. Laid upon Reid’s bed were a tux, a cloak and a little white half-mask. Nothing as ridiculous as a beak-wearing plague doctor costume.

After showering and putting on his costume, Reid checked himself out in the mirror. He looked good. He wondered if Richie Rich would notice. He was pretty sure that Richie Rich was attracted to him. Today’s mouth-staring incident seemed to confirm it. Not that anything could happen between the two of them. Not that Reid wanted anything to happen between the two of them. His attraction to Richie Rich was just an inconvenient bump in the road. A bump the size of Mt. McKinley.

Reid returned to the living room and discovered that Margo was cuddling Jacob close to her chest as she swayed and softly sang the Miranda warning. “You have the right to remain silent. Doo wop. Doo wop. Anything you say or do, can and will be held against you in a court of law. Chicka boom. Chicka boom.”

When Margo realized that Reid had returned to the living room, she just shrugged at having been caught singing a law enforcement procedure to her beloved nephew. As Jacob had fallen peacefully asleep in Margo’s arms, Reid decided that the kid had wide-ranging taste in music.

Reid glanced at his watch and wondered how long it would take his housemate to put on her fancy duds. The sooner they got to the shindig, the sooner they could leave.

Reid attempted small talk with Margo but he was pretty sure that he was doing it wrong given Margo’s look of bafflement.

Eventually, Katie came out of her room. She did some twirls, a little ‘vogueing’ and a curtsy. Margo cooed at Katie in her satin ballgown and beaded mask. Reid thought Katie looked like a demented Barbie princess. Or possibly a Barbie princess’ considerably older and demented sister. At least the ballgown was mauve.

“Yeah, you’re hot for a female,” allowed Reid. “You look almost as good as me. Are we ready to hit the road, or what?”

Katie heaved a sigh. “What’s really sad is that you’re still more romantic than most of the men I’ve dated. I’m driving.”

“Why do you get to drive?” asked Reid.

“Because you’re gonna need booze at this thing so I should be the designated driver,” said Katie.

“I don’t need alcohol in order to get through an evening,” sniffed Reid.

“No, I need you to have some alcohol so that I can get through the evening,” muttered Katie.

Reid rolled his eyes and held out his arm for Katie so that they could go already. Unfortunately, Margo decided that she needed to take a couple of pictures. Reid wondered how his life had become this utterly ridiculous.

 

 **CHAPTER THREE – THE BALL**

Katie squealed as she drove the car up the driveway to the Walsh Estate. There were tiny sparkling lights arranged around the large oaks lining the driveway.

“It looks like a fairy land,” she exclaimed.

“It looks like tiny lights hung up around a bunch of trees,” shrugged Reid. “You’re very easily impressed. Holy crap! Look at the size of the house! I think the Walsh Estate might be bigger than Oakdale Memorial.”

“My nephew Casey once told me that Lucinda used to let Luke rollerblade along the back hallway near the kitchens and pantries.”

“Kitchens and pantries, plural?” asked Reid.

Katie shrugged. “I think one of the kitchens is specifically for use by caterers. She entertains a lot. You know, the guesthouse has it’s own swimming pool.”

“Jeez,” muttered Reid. “So, did La Walsh freak out when her grandbaby heir started dating a barista? Are Mr. Snyder and Noah star-crossed lovers who managed to fight parental disapproval and society’s scorn for those who try to cross class barriers in order to stay together?”

“You seem to ask a lot of questions about Luke,” noted Katie as she braked to a screeching halt. Reid threw his hand against the dashboard and really wished she had let him drive.

She and Reid got out of the car and Katie tossed her keys to a valet. Reid held out his arm and a beaming Katie clasped it. They strolled towards the main house.

“Gossip has it that Lucinda freaked out when her daughter, Lily, fell in love with Lucinda’s stable boy, Holden Snyder,” began Katie.

Reid snorted. “Wait a minute. Good Dad is a stable boy?”

“He’s not a stable boy any longer,” said Katie. “He’s a horse trader. Although I’m not really sure what that entails. How does one make money if they’re just trading horses back and forth?”

“Volume,” said Reid.

“Anyway, it caused a lot of discord between Lucinda and Lily. So I think she was a lot more accepting when Luke fell in love with Noah.”

“Hmmm.”

They entered the main house. There was an orchestra in the ballroom and couples waltzing across the floor. Reid had never been in a home with it’s own ballroom before. Katie hailed a passing waiter and handed Reid a glass of champagne while she took a non-alcoholic punch for herself.

“Drink up,” ordered Katie.

Reid wasn’t on duty the next day. He shrugged and drank up. And while Katie dragged him around so that she could speak to EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the joint, he drank up some more. It’s amazing how much more non-annoying people seemed when you had a little bit of a buzz going on.

Suddenly, Katie paused and turned towards Reid. “I love you but I’d really like for you to scram now.”

“Excuse me?” asked a mellow Reid.

“Tall guy with big feet at ten o’clock has been looking at me. He won’t ask me to dance if you’re standing around me looking like my date instead of my gay friend,” explained Katie.

“His feet aren’t that big,” sniffed Reid. But he decided to let Katie have some space so that she could lure in her mysterious stranger. Jacob would probably like a baby brother or sister.

Reid looked around to locate the nearest canape-laden waiter. He spotted someone across the room in a corner half-hidden by a sculpture of a winged goddess. The man was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and beaked mask. He was carrying a stick. Richie Rich. Reid’s first thought was that he hated the bulky coat that Richie Rich was wearing. It hid the good stuff. Reid’s second thought was that maybe Margo was right. Maybe a masquerade was a chance to spend time that was exempt from thinking about all of the myriad reasons why making a move on the overly-emotional and spoiled and _taken_ brat was a horrible idea.

Reid strode up to Richie Rich. He placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him. He whispered into Richie Rich’s ear, “Tonight doesn’t have to mean anything. Just pleasure. I want to make you feel good. I want to make us feel good together. Be with me, tonight. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted in bed.”

Richie Rich’s breath sped up. He clasped Reid’s wrist and led him down a hallway to an empty room. It was a library filled with leather-bound books. Reid prodded Richie Rich over to a fainting couch, divan, whatever the heck. Richie Rich lay down on the couch and spread himself wantonly. Reid threw off his cloak and was unbuttoning his shirt when the door opened.

A man wearing a plague doctor costume walked in the door. Reid hurriedly clutched his shirt closed like a proverbial maiden aunt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said the new arrival. In Richie Rich’s voice. This night could not get any worse. “I didn’t know anyone was . . . Dr. Oliver?”

“No,” lied Reid.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone,” spat an irate Richie Rich. He was vibrating with anger. “Not that it’s any of my business. After all, it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

The man on the couch sat up and removed his mask. “Luke?”

Richie Rich pushed his mask to the top of his head. “Tony?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” said Tony who looked way too amused for Reid’s liking.

“How long have you and the great Dr. Oliver been seeing one another,” asked Richie Rich with crossed arms.

“Never met him before tonight,” admitted Tony.

Richie Rich turned towards an embarrassed Reid. “You used my Grandmother’s fundraiser to pick up a twink? No offense, Tony.”

“None taken,” laughed Tony. “I was afraid that I was getting too old to be considered a twink anymore, so thanks.”

Reid was desperately trying to use his heretofore-undiscovered psychic powers to teleport himself out of the Walsh Estate. There was no way that he’d ever live it down if Richie Rich knew that he had accidentally picked up some aging twink while believing that Richie Rich was the type of man who would have meaningless sex with a guy he didn’t even like. In his grandmother’s library, yet. Maybe this Tony guy hadn’t figured out what had happened and Reid could get out of this mess with Richie Rich merely thinking that he was a sex addict instead of a dumb loser who was feeling way too much for someone who was in love with another man.

Tony cleared his throat. He pointed to his costume and pointed to Luke’s costume.

“You and I are both wearing the same costume,” Tony prodded Richie Rich.

“I didn’t copy your costume,” protested a startled Richie Rich.

“Your doctor and I never spoke. He saw me in this costume and came up to me and offered me sex with no consequences,” grinned Tony. “It was really hot. And I never questioned why he assumed I was gay. The only way this makes sense is if he thought I was someone else.”

“So, Reid was going to have sex with you because he thought I was you?” asked a stunned Richie Rich.

Reid leaned his back against the wall and wiped a hand down his face. This was humiliating.

Reid heard Tony say, “If you ever need a third . . .”

“A third what?” asked Luke. Tony laughed and Reid removed his hand to give Richie Rich a disbelieving look.

“Oh!” exclaimed Richie Rich. “I’m not . . .er., um. I’m not a menage a trois type of person.”

“What if I just watch?” asked Tony.

Reid watched Richie Rich cross his arms across his chest.

“Tony, go away,” ordered Richie Rich.

Tony chuckled and left the room.

Richie Rich looked at Reid. Reid tried to look defiant instead of embarrassed.

“Is that what happened?” asked Richie Rich. “Did you think that Tony was me?”

“Yes.”

“Being wanted by someone like you, it’s a compliment.”

“Yes, it is. You can save yourself the trouble of telling me that you don’t feel the same way.”

“Don’t. You must know that I’m attracted to you. That I think about you and what it would be like to be with you.”

“But you’re not going to act on it, are you?” asked Reid.

“I can’t.”

“Because of Noah.”

“Because of me. Noah and I are done. But that doesn’t mean that I’m the kind of guy who can just have sex with someone. No matter how sexy he is. I need to date, to get to know the person with whom I’m sharing my body. Be in a relationship,” admitted Richie Rich.

“And you don’t want to date me,” stated Reid.

Richie Rich tilted his head. “You’re the one trying to have no-strings sex with me instead of asking me on a date. I figured you’re the one who doesn’t want to date.”

Reid took a deep breath. “What happens if I do ask you out?”

“I’ll say yes. Then we’ll probably bicker about what we’re going to do on the date. Arguing sort of seems to be our modus operandi. Then if the date goes well, we’ll go on a second date.”

“I meant, what happens when Noah gets his sight back? Do I get dumped?” asked Reid quietly.

“No. I’ve loved Noah for a long time. Part of me will always love him. But I don’t think it’s possible to stay _in_ love with someone who doesn’t want to spend any time with you, to share any of his life with you. Do you think it makes me a horrible person that when I finally decide it’s okay for me to let Noah go, it’s when he’s blind and scared and alone?”

“It was his choice to be alone. If you’re wrong for one another, it doesn’t make you a bad person to let him go,” said Reid.

“It was pretty brave of you to make a move on me,” assessed Richie Rich. “So, it’s my time to attempt bravery. Reid, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“I would enjoy going out on a date with you, _Luke_ ,” smiled Reid.

“Wow,” said Luke. “This suddenly feels kind of big and scary.”

“That’s what you’re gonna say when we head towards third base,” murmured Reid as he pulled Luke into his arms.

“Ha!”

Reid leaned in. He nibbled at Luke’s mouth. They exchanged soft, tender kisses. They exchanged teasing, biting kisses. They exchanged sloppy, tongue-filled kisses.

After awhile, Luke pulled back. “We need to return to the party.”

Reid gave a manly whimper.

Luke smiled. “The fundraiser is important. You and I have all the time in the world to continue this.”

Luke clasped Reid’s hand and led him back towards the party.

“Hey, Luke,” said Reid. “Did you realize that you have the biggest beak in the room?”

“That’s what you’re gonna say when we hit third base,” said Luke.


End file.
